


Ladies of Gondor

by Morgyn Leri (morgynleri)



Series: Fireside Tales [87]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, GFY, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-06
Updated: 2014-03-06
Packaged: 2018-01-14 18:56:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1277287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morgynleri/pseuds/Morgyn%20Leri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Éowyn is grinning at her as they draw rein near the gates, walking the horses past it, and along the wall toward the northern butts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ladies of Gondor

**Author's Note:**

> Lothíriel, a year after Éowyn's arrival in Gondor  
> Prompt: Sweat  
> Alternate Universe: Road to Mundburg

Sweat stings in her eyes, but Lothíriel refuses to let that stop her from keeping up with her cousin's wife as they race across the Pelannor, bows in one hand, and reins in the other. Éowyn had been restless in the first months, and Lothíriel had asked her what might help - a mistake, according to some of the older women who had been trying to help the Rohirric lady become comfortable in Gondor. They hadn't wanted to indulge in a sport they claimed was only fit for men, not for ladies who desired to attract and keep the attention of one lord or another.

Lothíriel had been glad to join Éowyn riding - and racing - when they could, though when they'd greeted Boromir at the gates one afternoon, he'd been somewhat worried. She thinks her cousin worries a bit too much sometimes, though she's surprised Éowyn had been willing to indulge that worry, if only in that they race within constant sight of the wall around Minas Tirith's first circle.

She pushes aside the thoughts as the butts they have set up near where the Rammas Echor comes closest to the city in the south. This is where Éowyn still surpasses her greatly, though she cannot be blamed for not having the lifetime of practice her cousin's wife possesses. Dropping the reins against her horse's neck, Lothíriel reaches for an arrow in the quiver at her knee, drawing the bow back to her ear as she continues closer, directing the horse with her knees to make the sweeping turn that Éowyn had pointed out was the best for this.

The arrow flies, and Lothíriel lowers the bow, gathering up the reins again as she returns to the course - they still have the last of the race back to the gates before they can call it finished.

Éowyn is grinning at her as they draw rein near the gates, walking the horses past it, and along the wall toward the northern butts. "You're doing better, cousin." She nudges her horse closer to Lothíriel's, riding close as they go to inspect their shooting. "Nearly as well as I did at sixteen."

Lothíriel grimaces, looking at her horse's ears a moment. "I'm not really that good, am I?"

A bump of Éowyn's knee against hers makes Lothíriel look over at her, and Éowyn smiles gently. "You are, and you're getting better."

**Author's Note:**

> Lothíriel arrived in Minas Tirith to attend Boromir's wedding, and she stayed with the permission of her father and of Denethor in order to be an attendant to Éowyn. That she's now one of the few ladies of the city who enjoys the sort of athletic - and considered masculine - pursuits that Éowyn has an interest in only amuses Imrahil, and gives Ivriniel (Lothíriel's aunt) fits.


End file.
